


Legacy

by kuroneko1815



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam is a Legacy so he needs to know!, Angels, Chuck is God, Different take on Nephilim, F/M, I hate how things ended for Adam, John as a Men of Letters Legacy, John is aware of the supernatural, Mary Winchester has a brother, More people live, The Campbells unite, The boys have more support
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-24 05:48:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroneko1815/pseuds/kuroneko1815
Summary: Where the boys are Nephilim and very young by angelic standards and are (as most humans) misinformed of what a Nephilim means to the Heavenly Host. Add in a runaway Archangel with her two guards masquerading as John's mentors for the Men of Letters (though they've quite conveniently upped and disappeared a few years ago) and Mary's older brother (who has left the hunt, thank you very much) as well as over protective relatives in the form of the oldest hunting clan in the world (and let's not forget those who aren't blood) and you've basically got yourself an Army behind Team Free Will all ready to kick the Apocalypse in the can.





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Nephilim](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4524231) by [SLunne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLunne/pseuds/SLunne). 



> This work has been inspired by a lot of Nephilim and Angel Dean or Sam fics. I try to deviate but the end result will pretty much be the same. I took inspiration for Mary's brother from Dean's comment about an uncle that he's never met from 'Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things.' This goes back to the beginning... and I mean the very beginning of time. Also Supernatural is not mine.

Sir’ila was the oldest amongst the angels, older still than Michael. She was created when the Darkness, Light, and Death were the only beings. She remembered being doted upon and being different. She was one who had a form and she basked in light and dark as she traversed the vast expanse surrounded only by her creator. She debated with Death and was loved equally by the Triarchs of Eternity. When her father began to create once more, not beings but worlds, she explored them all, her ‘Aunt’ and mother the Darkness leading her steps as she went. Death followed and joked and cautioned her for her safety, never wanting to reap that which was different and new and so _beloved_.

When her brothers came, they became just as beloved. Though they did know gender as she. She showed Mik’hil, whose wings were like fire and light and so much more, the endless wonders of the Universe that their father created before their aunt destroyed it with her touch. She taught him to fight, to be a warrior without peer. Then Avist’il came and he was beautiful, with wings so white and _pure_ , that she and Mik’hil showered him with attention and adoration and their father, his favor. He was a leader and a warrior almost on par with his older siblings, he stood as a voice of reason as truth and decision, as crossroads and beauty.

Then Raf’il arrived so sweet and loving, a warrior just like them but one who delighted in learning to wield his powers to heal, to help, as she had done, for life and death were two sides of eternity. He was content to follow his older siblings, to watch and learn as life grew on different worlds. Flying unseen with his wings of iridescent blue, amongst the indigenous life on whatever newly created world their father had dreamt up and brought to creation. He spent time with his sister learning all the ills suffered by the populations and how to bring them about or to counteract them. And finally their youngest arrived, Jib’ril with wings of copper who delighted in learning tricks and jokes from Avist’il, who was always quick to smile and laugh and made them _whole_. He was the fastest amongst them and the craftiest, he delighted in running between his family and passing on messages with whatever secret languages he had with each.

They ventured forth, the five of them, through the paths within each world, creating their own trails and marking landmarks as their own, only to return to witness its destruction at the hands of Darkness. The tensions became rife within the family then and as infighting broke out, Sir’ila spoke for peace but was unheeded, when the first act of war, when Avist’il lured their Aunt into a trap and her family cornered her and they had fought, Sir’ila stood by Death’s side and begged for clemency for her aunt, a prison was created by their father and the key given to Avist’il. The look of betrayal their aunt had given them all, her more than the rest, as she was forced into her cage, had struck Sir’ila and she’d begged her father to be allowed time to see her aunt every so often.

Their father understood, pained as he was from locking away one who was once so beloved, and allowed his only daughter, his eldest to see to his sister. None of the family blamed her nor scorned her for her absence in the fight, for though they knew their aunt, it was Sir’ila who had raised them while she herself had been raised by their aunt. In truth her essence contained not just their father’s but that of their aunt’s as well, small though it might be, and Death’s indulgence was directed towards her. Sir’ila could no sooner raise her blade against one of her close kin then she could cut off her golden wings tipped black.

There was peace once more and as their father created more siblings like them, so too did he create more worlds and so the five Archangels sat at the base of their father’s throne. Though Sir’ila played on her harp almost constantly, bringing music to their father’s throne room as they held court. All their younger siblings were raised by the Archangels, Raf’il tended to their wounds while Jib’ril and Avist’il taught them little tricks and jokes, Mik’hil watched as they took to their wings and chased one another through the gardens of heaven while Sir’ila mothered them all.

Soon enough, their father began to truly delegate tasks to them. To Sir’ila she was to be the ‘mother’ figure, the nurturer. She taught them what they needed to learn, was available to comfort or scold. Warrior though she was, she preferred the duties of a caretaker and while she had her own battalion of troops always ready to fight, they were more often than not, led by Mik’hil. Her staff and aides consisted of her personal guards, for her brothers thought her too unguarded because of her hesitancy to fight, her primary guard was Ezri’fil, while her Aide de Camp was an angel known as Hana’il. The leader of her garrison was an angel known as Ana’il and with her was one of the angels that she’d known would have a large role to play in the coming years though she still didn’t know how, this angel was known simply as Cas’til.

When their father created Earth, they all watched in anticipation as he guided a particular fish and shaped him into man and created from that man a woman like Sir’ila. While all angels were given specific tasks father created this little beings with ‘free will’ and tasked Gad’ril to watch over the Garden that he had created. But Avist’il who had changed so much had resented their father’s command that all the angels bow down to the humans. Mik’hil had given no fight while the rest of their siblings did so with mere curiosity as they watched the two little beings. Sir’ila could feel the discord once more brewing within her family and she watched as Avist’il had lost their father’s favor as he twisted the woman known as Lilith and Mik’hil cast him down.

She watched helpless as Gad’ril was overpowered by Avist’il and the Man named Adam and his new wife Eve were corrupted ever so slightly and cast out from Eden. Father was furious then and Gad’ril was summoned to the throne room, bloody still from Avist’il’s attack. Mik’hil, Jib’ril, and Sir’ila sat as the delegates of Justice and once more Sir’ila intervened and begged clemency for another member of her family. She had begged her father to spare Gad’ril the punishment he would be dealt for he was a Seraph and Avist’il an Archangel, their abilities and powers unevenly matched and still Gad’ril defended Eden to the best of his abilities, nearly at the cost of his life. She knew that with the wrath of their father, such as it was now, it would have been more merciful of Avist’il to have simply ended Gad’ril then and there.

Jib’ril and Mik’hil were stopped in their pronouncement of the punishment as their Father deliberated. Finally he sighed and looked upon his eldest child. “Very well, you beg for his pardon and so shall it be.” Their father began. “But his responsibility shall fall to you. No longer shall Gad’ril protect the garden, he shall protect you instead. He will do your bidding as you do mine, in time, should he prove his penance then he will be forgiven, until then, Gad’ril is yours to do with as you please. But should he fall as Avis’til has, then his punishment shall be yours as well.” He commanded and Sir’ila bowed her head to her father, sparing a glance at the looks of horror on her three brother’s faces.

“Father…” Gad’ril’s voice is hesitant but there is an undercurrent of urgency. This will be the first that he will be allowed to speak as his bindings are removed.

“What is it, child?” Their father asked as Sir’ila stepped beside her new ward.

“Avist’il was not alone. There were other angels there.” And there is a hush that falls amongst the angels everywhere because it is one thing for Avist’il to be rebelling but the knowledge that he leads others as well was frightening.

“That is a truly grave accusation.” Mik’hil said sternly but there is caution in his voice. He knows as well as Sir’ila what it meant, what it would lead to.

“I do not lie. Avist’il’s followers call themselves the Grigori. He has spies well placed among us.” Gad’ril said defiantly as they felt the truth of his words ringing out.

“So it is to be war then.” Sir’ila said softly as Jib’ril went to her.

“Mik’hil, gather the troops. I task you with Avist’il.” Their Father had said. And as the angels spread out, Sir’ila stood before her Father, alone with him once more.

“What is it, daughter?” Their Father had asked.

“Do not destroy Avist’il, Father, I beg you. Imprison him, give him a chance to repent, to learn forgiveness. Please. I cannot stand the thought of my brothers dead.” Sir’ila begged as was becoming often now.

“Very well, you believe in second chances, in choices and repentance. You believe in love and have mothered them. I shall grant you your wish but his prison shall be made by your grace and your hands. I have created a realm for souls like Lilith and that shall be his realm and his prison. In return you shall take on more responsibilities. You and your garrison shall watch over the humans. You are healer and historian, warrior and mother to these angels. You shall become the angel of repentance and redemption, of love and family, of innocence and prayer. An angel of war and healing. There will come a day when the angels must learn to stand for themselves and you will help in that. One day, I will leave you all and the task of ruling over the angels shall fall to you and Mik’hil. To Raf’il shall fall the health and wellbeing of all your younger siblings. Jib’ril shall become the Messenger of Heaven, the Herald of God. You four shall sit Justice upon creation but your burden will be heavy, our family is fractured and though many of your siblings bow to mankind, they do not understand or love it and many shall perish before this war is over. I will not create angels, not by the means that I have for so long. Angels shall become as they are of heavenly and earthly creations. Nephil, they shall be called. Children born from the grace of an angel that had once possessed a human vessel.” And Sir’ila’s thoughts begin to whirl as she thought of baby angels once more within her arms and she thought of the angels now who do not understand the love that she has for them, a parental love, more so than any.

“You mean to make them love humans, to let them grow up and make these decisions that are best for their children as you do yourself?” She couldn’t help but ask her father who merely smiled and nodded but the thought of her father walking away from them, it was too much.

“I shall never be far from all of you but you must learn to stand on your own.” Her father assured her gently before his façade changed. “But the condition I have for Avist’il’s life is this… you will live as a human temporarily, you shall bear a child, a vessel of sorts for part of my grace. Avist’il’s corruption needs to be dealt with, and a sacrifice must be made. You may ascend once more and return to being an angel when this is done. Do you accept?” Sir’ila stared at her father as she pondered her choices for a minute before she bowed to him in deference and agreed.

Sir’ila was given time to set things to right as she gathered her staff and gave them her orders. To Ezri’fil she gave Gad’ril’s custody, to Hana’il the task of watching over the angels and caring for them, and to Ana’il the task of running the garrison hat watches over the Earth. She had then bid her brothers goodbye though they were disgruntled as her grace was taken from her by their father and kept under guard by Ezri’fil and Gad’ril.

On earth she was born as a human girl named Mary who was born without the original sin, and she had met Jib’ril once more as he pronounced her with child, though she bore no recognition for her youngest arch-brother. She did not know that Jib’ril returned to Heaven heartbroken but vigilante as he saw the danger that now surrounded his beloved sister. And so it was that humanity wrote about the Son, and of his _Virgin Mother_ , the Angel Sir’ila who was forgotten about by the humans. And when she had ascended once more, her grace stronger and her heart filled with love, she was welcomed back by her three younger siblings who were now preparing for the true battle against Avist’il.

And when Mik’hil was about to deliver the final blow, it was their Father who had stopped him from killing Avist’il for he knew, as Sir’ila did, that Mik’hil would destroy himself if he killed the brother that he so loved. And so Mik’hil had thrown their brother, stripped of his name and known to them now as Lucifer, into the cage that Sir’ila had secretly made. There were 666 seals to break them to release Lucifer but one way (though unknown to any but Sir’ila, their Father, and Death) for him to be returned to them as Avist’il, through redemption and repentance shall the gates of the cage open and so Sir’ila visited her brother in his prison as she did for her aunt.

Until the day that she fled from Heaven with Ezri’fil and Gad’ril to stand guard over her as she searched for their father to seek clarity over the Apocalylpse. Her father long gone, Jib’ril run away, Mik’hil and Raf’il whose smiles had gone out and had become harsh and distant and so _cold_ towards even her. Heaven was different now, it was a garrison and there had become much resentment towards the humans for the massacre of the Nephilim and for the lies spread over them (that they were considered abominations by the angels, first; and that they were sired by the Grigori, second), the angels were recalled as so many merely faded from the pain of a lost child and Mik’hil had issued a ban against siring any more children for fear of more loss.

And so the orders issued when Sir’ila had first taken on human form remained for her staff as Mik’hil took sole control after Sir’ila’s departure. It became stagnant and the angels hard and distant, the song of Heaven changed as they transitioned into a full military, preparing only for the Apocalypse. And still the Grigori that remain (the few that had survived), became the Princes of Hell as they awaited the return of their King, Lucifer. At the head of the fallen ones was the angel once known as Izri’zil or to the common people, Azazel who had been Avist’il’s aide de camp. To help them on their quest to free their King were Lucifer’s Hell Knights, with Abbadon as the last to have survived.

All the while, Sir’ila found men who could hunt the children of Eve and the demons set forth from Hell and she chose from among them two bloodlines to impart her knowledge, one to hunt and another to gather more knowledge. One later became known as the Winchester clan, the other became known as the Campbell clan. And when Abaddon appeared once more and destroyed the collective that the Winchester clan had created, she disguised herself then and appeared to young John Winchester and guided him on his path to becoming one of the Men of Letters and when he returned from this human war, he had fallen in love with the Heiress to the Campbell line and they had wed and revealed their secret to their delight that both knew of the supernatural and wished for normalcy.

And when John and Mary had awoken within one of the derelict Campbell properties without their knowledge of what had transpired, they knew that something supernatural had happened and so they had called on Mary’s older brother who had left the life behind and was subsequently disowned, they had met within the Campbell Compound to assess the situation. When they had returned with no answers and no access to Men of Letters Bunker, they had sought to keep it buried, especially when Mary fell pregnant not too long after.

And when Mary died that night in their son’s nursery, John kept him mouth shut as he swore vengeance against the being that had killed his wife. John spoke to the police and told them of the scream he’d heard, of how he was sure he’d heard the voice of a man within the house moments after and that he’d only had enough time to grab Sammy and place him within his brother’s arms before returning to his wife to see her dead. Though the police never found the man but concluded that it must have been a robber that Mary Winchester had caught, the Firemen had concluded that the fire spread too fast to be natural but could find no obvious accelerants and so concluded that someone had deliberately set the fire, though how was unknown.

A psychic named Missouri approached him then and told him that his children were part angel and advised him to seek out his wife’s family because they could keep the children safe. And so John spent the night at the local Church with a visiting Pastor and though he moved like one of the civilians, there was something about him that John could identify as belonging to the hunting community. And so they spoke at length that night, once Dean had cried himself to sleep, about the Angels and the Grigori and their supposed children.

Mary’s brother, a doctor by profession, arrived early in the morning and the three men spoke about hunting and Pastor Jim had given John Winchester a reference for two people who may be able to help. One man, named Bill Harvelle, owned a bar called the Roadhouse which was a pit stop for hunters, and another man named Bobby Singer who had quite a collection as well. When Pastor Jim walked away to give the two in-laws time to talk and grieve, John told Nathaniel Campbell about the yellow eyes he glimpsed staring at him from the window before he found Mary’s body on the ceiling and the fire burst forth from them, and knowing that Nathaniel was as well versed as he was in lore, he told them of the children and their newly discovered angelic heritage.

“No one will hurt Mary’s children, I promise you, John.” Nathaniel had told him then and there and John finally broke down as he let his grief for the shattered life that he and Mary had built, for the woman he loved, and for his children who were now in even more danger than anyone could have possibly guessed.

It wasn’t too long after that, that the house had been rebuilt and sold, John’s shares in the garage liquidated and news began to arrive about the deaths of Mary’s friends and the rest of the Campbell clan. Nathaniel arrived then and spirited the Winchesters away to the Campbell Compound and that was where the home base for the Winchesters became.

And John made contact with the two men that Pastor Jim had referred. So the boys grew, moving from motel to motel as John tapped into the funds accessible to him as the sole surviving member of the Men of Letters and the children grew between the Campbell Compound, the Roadhouse, Singer Salvage and Pastor Jim’s Church. Dean became the perfect soldier and the caretaker of the family while Sam was rebellious and had a different dream.

When Sam left for Stanford and was basically expelled from the family, it was to Nathaniel that he had looked to for support. And Sam lived in false ignorance as he went about his day to day life as a ‘civilian’ (and pretending that he wasn’t a Nephil). Dean on the other hand had told a woman about his secret and been thrown out of her life for his effort. He went to his father then and confided in him, during a hunt that he had enlisted to be a Corpsman in the Navy and John, unwilling to lose another son, and with the knowledge that Dean would still hunt in between, had accepted that.

Before Dean left for training though, he went on another road trip where he met a boy that had his skin itch in a way that told him that he was face to face with blood. As Dean searched him, he couldn’t find a trace of grace that signified a Nephil but he knew that this boy in front of him was his brother, a Winchester. Dean introduced himself then, to the boy, _‘Adam’_ Dean corrected in his mind, and his mother, Kate Milligan. Both looked at him stunned at the knowledge that John Winchester had an older son but seemed to accept it after some proof though when Dean returned to his motel room, he dialed his father’s number angrily.

_“Dean? What is it?” His dad asked gruffly as Dean gritted his teeth at the man that had kept his family from him._

_“Why didn’t you tell me that I had another brother?” Dean asked angrily._

_“How did you find out about Adam?” And his dad’s voice of shock and wariness just set him over the edge._

_“How did I find out?” Dean repeated the question. “Well maybe it was when I felt the itch that meant the call of my blood?” Dean told him._

_“Dean, I’m sorry. But he doesn’t know anything. His mother doesn’t want him to find out and…” Whatever else John might say was drowned out then._

_“I’ll handle Kate. I’ll tell her about his legacy as a Man of Letters. Look, I understand that he’s not… well… like Sammy and I but we still deserved to know one another.” Dean said before he shut off the phone._

Dean sat down once more and mentally plotted his route as he prepared for dinner with Kate and Adam. This was a dinner that was going to change everything and he knew that he had to be cautious because Kate knew about the supernatural but was obviously adverse to it which meant that he’d have to get through this dinner while navigating through the large mine field of topics and somehow convince Kate to allow him to tell Adam the truth because whether or not his name is Winchester… well… an oblivious Winchester is a dead Winchester.

Adam opened the door for him with an excited grin, the thirteen year old was practically bursting with energy as he ushered him in to their home. Kate greeted him with a smile as he was led to their dining room and Dean just smiled back at her because he honestly had no idea what he was doing there. The dinner was pleasant with Adam talking about everything from school to dad.

“And I can’t imagine why dad didn’t tell me I had an older brother!” Adam exclaimed as he gazed at Dean in wonder.

“Hate to burst your bubble kid, but you’ve got two older brothers.” Dean said with a smirk as he enjoyed the looks of shock from his two dinner companions.

“I have another brother? What’s his name? Where is he?” Adam said in a rush.

“Slow down, kid!” Dean laughed. “His name’s Sam and he’s in Pre-Law at Stanford on a full ride. My mom’s older brother’s been watching out for him since he started Uni.” Dean explained.

“Wow! He must be so smart! I’m going to be a Doctor when I grow up!” And Dean couldn’t help compare his two little brothers to one another.

“And what about you Dean? What are you doing?” Kate asked politely but Dean noticed that she’d tensed.

“I’m actually only taking this vacation as a last hurrah type of thing. I just enlisted to be a Navy Corpsman so I’ll be in the medical field like my uncle but more like a paramedic and I’ll be with the Marines like Dad. I’m expected to start my training soon so I’m actually taking this road trip to Sioux Falls where I’ll leave my car for a while.” Dean explained with a shrug.

“That’s so cool!” Adam said and Kate relaxed but Dean could tell that she was surprised by his answer. When dinner finished and Adam went up to get one of his games, Dean pulled Kate aside.

They sat in the farthest corner of the room. “I know you don’t want Adam brought in to this life and he doesn’t have to be but he needs to know the truth.” Dean told her and he held up his hand when she was about to protest.

“The circumstances with Adam is different than how it was with Sammy and I. Our mom was a Campbell, her family was one of the first hunters ever recorded but she and our uncle walked away from that life. When our mom died, her friends and family began dying as well. Dad on the other hand walked away from the supernatural as well. He was the last legacy of the Men of Letters, the… archivists of the supernatural. Most of them were killed when a demon… a Hell Knight… managed to possess one of them. Grandpa Henry was the only one with a kid so it fell to Dad to take on that mantle with a woman who’d been a member back in the day.” Dean paused then to let it sink in.

“Dad only became a hunter when a demon killed my mom. But Adam is a legacy of the Men of Letters without the burden of being one of the last Campbell hunters. He can be just that… a Men of Letters, he can be an archivist on the side while living a full normal life. He’ll know what’s out there and he’ll be able to defend himself but he can still be _normal_.” Dean finished as he stands up and greets Adam with a smile as he comes into the room.

Kate stays there and watches as the two brothers, separated by more than a decade in age, play chess against one another. Kate can see how good Dean is with Adam as he coaches his new brother into learning more about strategy and tactics, can see Adam gaze in awe at this new person in his life who is so much closer to his age and seems more approachable even, then his fun dad.

Kate knows her decision has been made from the moment Adam met Dean, knows that she cannot in good conscience, separate the two so she takes a deep breath. “Okay.” She begins as Dean starts packing away the chess set. The two boys look at her and Dean’s eyes are alight with comprehension. “Sweetie… Dean has something he needs to tell you.” She tells Adam who nods and sits on the sofa with his mom while Dean takes the chair opposite them.

So Dean speaks and she watches her boy listening, enraptured by his brother’s words. And as Dean finishes Adam bursts into questions and Kate who is a mother, knows when someone is holding something back and she can tell from Dean’s body language that he’s debating on whether or not to tell them something.

“There’s something else you should know.” Dean begins as Adam pauses for a breath. “There was another reason Dad kept us separate. With Adam unaware of the truth, it was too dangerous for him to be around Sammy and I…” Dean trails off. “We’re… not exactly fully human.” Dean says and for the third time that day, Kate is thrown by another surprise.

“What… what are you?” Adam asks part fear and part curious.

“Sam and I are… what you’d call Nephilim. The children of an angel and a human. And before you ask, no, you’re not a Nephil. I understand if you want me gone but please don’t tell anyone or even pray about it because we figured that the Angels might hear it.” Dean tells them.

“We’re not kicking you out Dean. You’re Adam’s brother… we just… need to know some more. Especially why it’s so dangerous.” Kate said, her mind spinning.

“Nephilim attract the supernatural to them. And if you’ve read any scriptures… it says that the Nephilim are the children of the Grigori, the fallen ones. In the scriptures the Nephilim were hunted down to the last babe and slaughtered by the angels for being abominations, even if they’ve never done anything. Dad spent the first few months with my uncle researching everything he could about this particular topic and we’d been drilled in Enochian, the language of the Angels, so we know which sigils could banish them. We learned to control our powers… our grace… before we were left alone.”  And Dean looks at his new brother who is pale but determined.

“You said you knew sigils to banish them?” Kate asked after a while.

Dean can only nod as Kate sits up straighter and looks at Dean with such intensity. “Teach us.” And that was that. Dean stays the night and the rest of the week in the Milligan house and when he leaves, the two new members of Dean’s family know all about warding their house and in their minds, the numbers and directions to the Harvelles and Bobby.

Dean drives for a few more days and ends up running in to an old fling named Lisa Braeden in Indiana and after an awkward hello, his eyes end up drawn to a little boy who couldn’t be older than three. Dean’s skin itches the way it does around blood and he knows instantly that the toddler staring curiously up at him, was his son. One glance at Lisa confirms it, but Dean can also feel the buzzing of his son’s grace underneath.

Dean lets Lisa lead him away as he stares at the toddler all the way back to her apartment. When the doors are closed and Ben, his son, _their_ son is put to sleep, Lisa turns to him then. “You know.” She says and Dean just nods numb at this revelation and he can’t help but wonder whether or not this was what Kate felt that night.

“I’m sorry Dean… but…” Lisa begins but Dean just shakes his head and smiles, his mind already running with thoughts on how he can be involved in his son’s life. He knows that the Campbell’s have a property in the area so maybe he could claim it as his own.

“It’s fine. I understand.” Dean assures her but he can see the doubt in her face. “Look Lisa, we were two crazy kids and I honestly don’t know what I would have done then.” And Lisa’s face goes to relief.

“I’d hate to ask this, but, have you seen him doing odd things?” Dean asked and Lisa is instantly alert once more.

“How do you know…” Lisa trails off.

“I know this must be a lot to take in, but my family and I have been hunting the supernatural for generations. And I’m sorry but Ben’s in a lot of danger because of me.” Dean tells her and he can practically feel the fear rolling off of her.

“What do you mean?” And her voice is shaking but she’s trying to be strong and Dean marvels at that because it reminded him of Kate and Ellen and he can’t help but wonder whether or not his own mother was like that. Dean looks at her and tells her everything, even about their supernatural heritage and their unknown angelic parent whose grace now grew within Dean’s son. Lisa takes it better than Cassie did and for that, Dean is thankful. He spends time with his new found son and informs his dad and uncle about the new addition to the family so that they could keep an eye out for him.

He ends up staying two weeks in Cicero and his Uncle Nathaniel gives him the Campbell House in Indiana and hires a contractor to fix up the house while Dean is in training. Between the field medical training that his uncle gives him, his upbringing as a hunter, and his father’s lessons from his days as a marine, Dean breezes through basics as if it were nothing. And when he’s shipped out, Lisa arrives with Ben to see him off and Kate allows Adam to take a day off from school to say goodbye to his brother. His Dad, Bobby, and Nathaniel are there too and Dean smiles but inside he feels hollow because Sammy (Sammy who was his everything once, Sammy who he raised) isn’t there and even though Dean knows that Sam was never told, it still feels off.

Time passes and Dean makes friends with the others on his ship, he rises through the ranks fairly quickly and eventually he reaches the rank of Hospital Corpsman First Class, Fleet Marine Force. Whenever Dean was stateside he would stay primarily in Indiana, visiting Bobby and the rest of the hunters, going out with Adam or checking up on Sam in Stanford. Hunting was done on the road to wherever he was going so that he wouldn’t have to lose a lot of time with his ever growing family. He writes up a will and starts working on the Campbell Homes that have been left practically abandoned throughout the country as he connects with the few remaining Campbell members.

He and Lisa don’t try for a relationship because there are so many difficulties and there is always the fear that something would go wrong so he tamps down his jealousy whenever he sees her with other men and he doesn’t commit to the women that he spends time with. He goes to see Sam on his nineteenth birthday and he knocks on his brother’s door with a card and some cash inside an envelope.

A pretty blonde girl opens and it’s clear that she lives there too and Dean just smiles at her. “Is Sam Winchester around?” He asks the girl and he doesn’t leer or flirt because this woman may very well become his sister in law.

“No, but he should be home soon. Maybe you can tell me your name and I’ll tell him you stopped by.” She says suspicious and Dean smiles because she’s a smart and cautious girl.

“It’s fine. Just give this to him and tell him, Happy Birthday for me. Miss…” Dean trails off wanting to know the name of the girl that captured his little brother’s attention.

“Jessica.” She tells him promptly as she takes the envelope.

“Thanks Ms. Jessica.” And with that Dean turns around and walks to his car.

* * *

It’s only when she’s locked the door, that Jessica realizes that she never got the man’s name. She shrugs it off and finishes baking Sam’s birthday cake. When she hears the door opening half an hour later, the man is still on her mind and as she smiles at Sam, her hands go to the envelope beside her.

“Some man stopped by looking for you earlier. He wanted you to have this.” Jessica said as she handed the envelope.

Sam eyes it curiously and when he opens it, she sees that it’s nothing more than a cheap birthday card and she smiles until at least a thousand dollars fall out of the card. Sam looks at the money before opening the card and she can see that Sam is trying not to laugh and cry at the same time.

“The man who gave this to you, he wouldn’t be wearing a leather jacket with dark blonde hair and green eyes, would he?” Sam asked.

“Yes, I… Sam… who was he?” Jessica can’t help but wonder because this was a man who’d just handed a perfect stranger a thousand dollars in cash and trusted her to deliver it without peaking or taking the money.

“His name’s Dean and he’s my big brother.” And that was that. Later, Jessica sees the card and gives in to the temptation of reading it while Sam is in the shower.

_Hey Bitch!_

_Happy Birthday! Guess you’re getting old too. Man, I remember when I was still changing your diaper. So Sammy, I should’ve told you this earlier but since you’ve been dodging my calls and Uncle Nate didn’t feel that it was his place to tell you… well… You’re not the baby of the family anymore. We have a half-brother named Adam Milligan, he lives in Windom, Minnesota. I found out about him a few months after you left for Stanford. About a week or so later I found out that I have a son with a fling of mine from when I was eighteen, his name is Ben and his mom is Lisa Braeden. Anyway, you’re missing a lot with this whole family feud with dad and I know you don’t want to talk to him but at least try to get to know the kids._

_Anyway, I’ve sent you a thousand grand to spend it as you will. Don’t worry… I didn’t hustle or steal the money, it’s totally legit so you don’t have to use your fancy shmancy pre-law education to get me out of jail. I happen to have a job you know. Guess I’ll check up on you later._

_Your older and more handsome brother,_

_Dean_

_P.S. I’m in the Navy._

_P.P.S. It’s for real. Call Ellen and Bobby if you want. They’ll tell you that I’m a sailor now and I can sing Brandy as much as I want._

_P.P.P.S. Is that even right? Oh well… Shut up Bitch._

Jessica just smiles and wonders at the relationship of the two brothers before closing the card and going back to the cake. Brady was fuck knows where, probably high or drunk or maybe even both right now. So today it was just Sam and her.


	2. Where Our Journey Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are just constants and no amount of grace would change it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Supernatural is not mine!

Dean was twenty five when he met Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs and his team from NCIS. They’d been investigating the death of a few marines that had been partying too hard during Liberty. He had apparently impressed the team with how he’d helped them solve the case because he was offered a job with NCIS. He thought of it, sorely tempted but he knew that until his mother was avenged, until he was sure his family was safe, he couldn’t walk away from the family business. So he smiled at the team and thanked them but declined because he had a duty, not just to himself but to others as well. He had a duty, was all he had replied and with a shake of a hand and a promise of employment should he ever need it (from NCIS), he walked away back to his ship.

The next few months pass by and he tries to return to the (semi) normalcy of his life on the ship, of monitoring the health of his men but he finds that he misses the thrill of the hunt. He also cannot forget the fact that his grace has been tingling more and more these past few months, a warning singing within him that something was coming for his family. _Death_ was coming for his family. He grimaced as Ensign Powell threw up once more, having had too much to drink at Liberty in New Orleans and he remembers the girl he’d had drinks with, a redhead named Charlie Bradbury who just really wanted to be left alone by the men in the bar so _she_ could hit on the women.

The two of them have drinks and it’s easy, no expectations and no sex (though he hasn’t really been sleeping with anyone, not since he’d found out about Ben), just two people of the opposite gender who are so alike and who just happened to like women. He knows about her skills, knows about how useful it would be in the field, but he doesn’t have the heart to bring her in to this world of monsters and demons so he leaves the bar with a promise of further contact, if only to have some normalcy in his life. _‘She would be a good (Wo)Man of Letters.’_ Dean thinks as he helps the Ensign onto the bed.

His time with the Navy was almost up, he’s chosen not to re-enlist and as the feeling of danger comes closer and closer every day, he wonders whether or not Sammy can feel it too. His calls from Lisa have confirmed that Ben has been moody of late. The last time Dean had felt this way, his mother had died and he was left with a brother to raise and a father to care for. And then there was the buzzing, faint whispers of grace around the ship, small enough that he believes it could be a descendant of a Nephil that had escaped the purge. He’s traced it back to a Culinary Specialist named Samuel Alfrid or Alfie for short, and yes, the kid was weird at times but Dean chalks it up to the bare minimum of his grace telling him that something wasn’t right. It’s the same for Dean, his powers grow every day and he’s been using them as discretely as he can as he tries his hardest to keep his men safe and alive.

When he gets off his ship for the last time, to the crowd that awaits the men and women on board his ship (families, lovers, friends), he allows himself one last look at the ship that has been his home for over a year. His men say their goodbyes, a shake of the hand, a clap on the back, or even hugs from a few of the women he’s proudly served with. Alfie waves him off (and he knows that Alfie is not returning either) with a curious tilt of the head as if examining Dean, his smile suddenly becoming fixed and curious before he shakes his head and gives him another smile and disappears within the crowd. He feels Ben’s budding grace, hidden beneath just like he’s taught him, approaching him rapidly and anticipates the body that latches on to his back.

Lisa is there as she always is and Dean just smiles at her, fighting the impulse to kiss her because it’s been four years and _fuck_ knows what they are. At best they are two friends who are attracted to each other and have a child but have missed their opportunity and maybe they can have that one day, at worst they are two acquaintances who both have a child together because of a fling and the attraction is still there. Still though, they mingle with the families and John is there with Nathaniel and something is just so off about them, like they’re bothered by something.

They go home and Dean goes off to hunt every so often and he runs in to Charlie Bradbury again and again, somewhere along the way she learns of the Supernatural and she’s brought in as a (Wo)Man of Letters. He takes her with them when they go on camping trips (and no not _camping_ trips), just good old fashioned survival in the woods and hiking. He takes Adam and Ben fishing and points out which plants are poisonous, he teaches Lisa and Kate about building fires and pitching tents and silently wishes that Sammy was there to geek out with Charlie when he tells her that she’s being disconnected for the next few days.

Ben’s grace near his soothes away the ache and longing he feels for Sammy’s grace that had always been there growing up. He can feel his grace stretch and flex as if trying to grasp something, trying to reach out only to be met with the biting cold of loneliness before Dean remembers to pull his grace back in lest he be discovered. Things are good until it wasn’t. Dad goes missing. He doesn’t panic, not at first, at least not until the 2nd week rolls by and he’s called everyone but Sammy and they all tell him that they haven’t heard from Dad in a while.

* * *

 

Samuel Alfrid or ‘Alfie’ as his shipmates called him, had watched as Dean left with his family with a curious tilt to his head. He walked towards a ‘family’ of five as one of the two women carried a sleeping toddler in her arms. The woman was young, blonde, and what most humans would have considered beautiful. She greeted him with a smile but his eyes were drawn to the child (and his hand twitched and yearned for his blade) and as soon as he was near enough to them, they walked to a secluded area of the shipyard, away from any cameras and disappeared only to reappear moments later in a small house in Lebanon Kansas.

“What did you learn, Saman’dril?” The blonde woman asked as she laid the child down on the couch and turned to him. The others stood around her, their faces belied the truth of their ages. And Samand’ril (or _Samandriel_ in the modern tongue) happily discarded the façade of the human Alfie.

“I have learnt a great deal about Michael’s true vessel. I know that he is righteous because his wrath is fierce but his soul is greater. I know that he glows with compassion and love and morality; that loyalty shines like a beacon to him guiding him through his path. I know that he is a defender of the innocent, a man of justice though of a different sort, and that he wishes for nothing more than to keep safe those that he deems under his protection. I know that he plays the roles of the Archs. He is a good son and soldier, and that he plays the role of family keeper, he sits justice of a different sort, and works hard to heal and save the lives of those that he can. He is self-sacrificing and he has a well spring of faith and fear lurking beneath. I know that he prays to Father often but is well versed in the prayers of other faiths and that he sits beside the men he treats and prays with them to calm them or prays for them when he loses them. I know that for all his faults, that he is righteous not just because Father ordained him so but because he chooses to be even if he does not think himself so. He is as Michael was before Avist’il was lost to us and Lucifer emerged.” He said as he gazed at the four angels gathered in front of him before he drifted to the child once more, an abomination of epic proportions and a danger to all the Heavenly Host.

“Then you have learned a lot and yet not.” The woman said kindly as Samadriel frowned.

“I do not understand, Sister Sir’ila. How have I not learned a lot?” Samandriel gazed at the eldest of God’s creation, the being that had raised the other angels.

“You believe him to be wholly as Michael was but Dean has the freedom of will to choose for himself. I am sure that you’ve seen the stubbornness within him at times.” Sir’ila had said and Samandriel remembered all the times when Dean had stubbornly refused to abandon his patient even ignoring the orders given. How many of those soldiers had been able to return home because of Dean’s actions? “Yes, he is a good son who idolizes and loves his father but he loves his brother more. He will follow his orders but he will question them and go against them should he need to.” Sir’ila finished as Samandriel nodded.

“What is it Saman’dril? You seem to be hesitating?” One of the men of the family said, the vessel he wore was older.

“Balthazar, there were moments when I could’ve sworn I felt Michael’s grace near Dean Winchester at times but I could not see him.” He confessed and he saw no looks of surprise among the four angels who had left heaven so long ago. He saw Gad’ril in the form of a woman who looked old enough to be the mother of Sir’ila’s vessel and Ezri’fil whose vessel looked to be of age with Sir’ila’s. All four wore rings, two sets one for each ‘couple’ that they portrayed.

“I do not find that alarming. Dean Winchester is Michael’s sword, it is only natural that the commander would ensure that his vessel is protected until the day came that he would have need of him.” Gad’ril had replied and while Samandriel knew that to be true, there was something he was missing. He stared at Ezri’fil then and took note of his stance, protective towards the child in his Lady’s care.

“And the child? The anti-Christ? Why do you keep him alive?” Samandriel asked and he felt the tension then and saw Sir’ila’s wings raise as if to defend the child.

“I keep him alive because he is an innocent child, regardless of the circumstances of his birth or about what he might do. He has free will to do with as he pleases and if he were raised right than perhaps he wouldn’t choose to destroy the host. But most of all, he is mine, not by the blood of this vessel or by the grace of my being but he is my child nonetheless and if Father himself has no problems with him then there shouldn’t be any problems with the host.” She said glaring at him. Samandriel could only nod and keep his mind off of this knowledge. There were many things that he would need to keep secret when he returned home and reported to Naomi and Michael (Sir’ila’s survival and the anti-Christ were some).

He stares at the four runaways, two were there to guard their Lady but Balthazar had runaway and raided Heaven’s armory long after the Lady had left. How he had ended up as one of Lady Sir’ila’s company was unknown to him. He felt the tension within the room ease as the Lady withdrew her wings and approached him, her eyes soft and the warmth that he had always known from her. Her hands cupped his vessel’s face and the feel of her endless love washed over him and in an instant he could remember the gentle harp strings as she performed within their Father’s gardens watching over him and the other fledglings as the four other Archs followed closely to ensure that they were all safe. He saw moments when he’d been safely ensconced inside her arms and wings after he’d fallen (and been healed by Raf’il) while trying to learn how to fly, the gentle hum of her voice and he remembered Heaven before the War, of the music and laughter and love that over flowed. She stepped away from her then, Naomi’s call becoming incessant and bowed before the Lady and gave a quick nod to his siblings.

As he flew away he remembered the desolating pain at the lost Nephil and the grief that washed over them all. He remembered the days that came _after_ as Heaven became nothing more than a barracks rather than home. He remembered the day that Heaven fell silent as the Lady Sir’ila’s disappearance was finally noticed as Mik’hil came to her to apologize for a disagreement and his howl of anger and pain at the discovery that she’d left too, in order to search for Father (supposedly).

And as he stood in front of Naomi, cold and angry and bitterly vengeful against the humans that had destroyed her daughter, and he saw how it was now, the apocalypse, how wrong it was. So many humans fought and killed for the sake of killing and who defiled that which was sacred to their father but then there were people like Dean Winchester who fought to _protect_ and heal those that were innocent. He remembered the little acts of kindness that people did for complete strangers without a thought of Heaven or rewards or recognition, ingrained in their instincts and willingly done. He remembered the human whose body he now wore, the boy who pushed a child out of the way of a car and took the girl’s place. Samuel Alfrid had been alone in his life, an orphan that was just trying to get by and he’d given consent to Samandriel when he was about to be reaped with the small request that the girl he’d saved be protected and guided.

No, the humans were worth saving and the apocalypse was wrong. Besides, hadn’t Sir’ila hinted that Father had allowed her to keep the child, didn’t that mean that he was still watching, perhaps this was another test? And Joshua still spoke to Father as well. Wouldn’t the Seraph who’d given up battle in favor of tending to the gardens and the angel who’d been the oldest, who refused to fight against family be more attuned to the Father who only wanted peace within the family?

* * *

Sam knows the new members of his family but they are distant to him. He hasn’t spent that much time with them (especially not when Dean or Dad was around), but he’s spent some weekends with them and sent the occasion gift for birthdays and holidays these past four years. He’s even had weekly phone calls with his half-brother and his nephew though those were always short and just a quick check up. He and Jess had even hosted the Milligans when they had come up to Stanford to see the school so Adam could decide whether he wanted to apply for it.

Sam had only met Jess’ parents before they were killed in a car crash and he remembered holding her through the nights when she’d cry herself to sleep. This had all been a few months after they’d started dating. Three years in and he’d become her family and the ring on her finger proved it. Sam had adored watching Jessica spoil Ben on the occasions they would see one another, had even enjoyed watching Jessica spend time with Adam, Kate, and his Uncle Nathaniel as they spoke of the little nuances found within the medical field (and Sam tried to avoid thinking about how weird it was the Kate and his uncle were both getting along too _well_ ).

And yes, for all that he was trying to get to know his new relations, it was still sometimes too much and he found that he liked the distance that was there, easier to ignore the grace that simmered and flowed within his very being and the uncomfortable way it stretched and pulled, wanting to be back with Dean. Ben’s presence eased the pain a little but the need to hold on to his grace had left him feeling hollow and empty in a different way, the loneliness that seemed to permeate through his soul. Jessica being with him soothed that cold away, if only partially, but it felt as if his grace were reaching out to something else (or maybe to _someone else_ ). And there were times when he could almost hear the voices of thousands of beings in his mind, for just the briefest moments, filling him with warmth and love but also distantness (and he knew that Dean had this worse than he did).

He and Jess had just been celebrating his LSAT scores with drinks and food when it happened. The buzzing within his grace, something trying to reach out to him. And then much closer, something dark and oily, Brady after he’d started getting into drugs and the like. It’s strange but he’s felt it along with a few others that he’d encountered in his life, seriously messed up people that refused to change their ways of life and for Brady… well… Sam had long ago stopped trying to save him but settled for helping him when things were really rough, he’d settled for praying for Brady and hoping that one day he’d get through to him.

It was later that night when he felt the desperate reach of the grace prodding him awake followed by the sounds of footsteps outside. In his hungover and sleep hazed mind he walked out into the living room and attacked the man in front of him. It was moments later when he was on the floor with the intruder on top of him that he recognized Dean and the prodding in his grace. Jessica walked out moments later and turned on the lights.

“Sam?” Her voice calm despite the agitation he could feel from her.

“Uhh… Jess.” He was at a loss for words, Jessica had met Dean but never actually ‘met’ him.

“Hey, Jessica!” Dean greeted as if they’d known each other more than that one birthday card fiasco.

Jessica calms visibly at the sight of Dean and she smiles at him. “Hey Dean! I wasn’t expecting you till tomorrow.” She says with a playful smile and… wait… _What?_

“What… tomorrow?” And Sam is just dumbfounded because he’s never even suspected that Dean and Jessica spoke after that first birthday when Dean had dropped off the money.

“I needed some way to keep up with you and since you don’t seem to be telling Uncle Nate much, I figured Jess would be more willing to boast about your achievements. Congratulations on the LSAT and the engagement by the way.” Dean says and there’s the pride and happiness that radiates within Dean and his brother’s grace caresses his gently and it’s just been so long since they’d been within reaching distance of each other that it feels like he’s coming home.

Dean’s mood shifts though and his grace cackles with unease as he turns to Jess and Sam. “I wish I could say that this is a social visit but Dad’s gone missing.” And Dean is worried and desperate but Sam knows how this goes, had gone through this too many times with his dad to count.

“Yeah well… you know the drill, he’s working overtime and he’ll probably stumble back in a few days.” And Sam’s still bitter as he remembers the days of his childhood where Dean was left to care for him because Dad had thought a hunt more important than bringing his boys to someone he trusted.

“Not this time, not like this.” And there’s something Dean’s not saying. “He’s been gone for two weeks and no one’s heard from him and I’ve called everybody. Hell, Kate hasn’t even heard from him even when one of the agreements was that Dad kept in contact with Adam at least once a week.”

“Jess, can I have some time with my brother?” Because he knows that he cannot in good conscience bring her into the world that he’d ran from and he knows that Jess understands that there are some things meant only for family to hear and even if she were _almost_ family, until the day the two of them married or until the day she saw the supernatural, she couldn’t be told unless he wanted to lose her.

As soon as she stepped back inside the bedroom and closed the door, he grabbed Dean and brought him to the farthest side of the room. “Dean! What the hell? There’s something you’re not telling me.” He hissed angrily because as happy as he was to finally see his big brother after four years, what he was saying wasn’t making any sense. Their Dad had pulled disappearing acts longer than this but Dean was always confident that he was going to return, this time, something had shaken Dean enough that he came straight to Stanford to get him, never mind whatever it was that he and Jess had been planning.

“Something isn’t right, I felt like there was something that was going to happen, it feels like it did when mom died. Sammy, Dad’s in danger. We all are.” Dean tells him and Sam knows that Dean’s instincts are sharper when it came to this, that if he says that whatever it was that killed their mother was coming after them than it likely was. Sam nodded then and went back into his room to pack, if this thing was out there and hunting them then Jess would be in danger, and suddenly his mind returned to the nightmares he’s had these past few days of Jessica reenacting his mother’s death.

Jessica waves them off with a worried smile and he promises to be back for the interview on Monday. He doesn’t fail to notice the salt lines on the window sill and on top of the doors that Dean’s put up while he was packing. Jess will be safe, slightly, but safe nonetheless. Soon enough he’s in the Impala with Dean and it feels like old times, like none of the four years had ever happened and it should scare Sam that he feels so at home but it’s Dean and their graces come together and it’s as if Sam is whole again, as if it were meant to be that they would be together.

The two of them start the drive quietly but Dean begins talking to fill in the silence, he speaks about his time in the Navy and everything else he could think of in the past four years. Sam smiles then and tells him about Jessica and about his plans for Law School, they made no mentions of their heritage because it wasn’t something that needed to be talked about, it just was. Though Sam did pause when he’d heard about ‘Alfie’ and Dean’s theory of the man’s Nephil heritage.

They get to the town and fall back into their patterns as a team and they have a little mishap with the Woman in White. It’s enough that the woman tries to seduce him but the moment she touched him, he saw what she had done, why she had been so afraid to go home. Her crimes against her innocent children that she had (in a fit of insanity and rage) taken their lives to spite her husband. Dean says nothing but offers him a hand on his shoulder when he catches him startling awake from his nightmares and Sam can’t help but feel more at ease knowing that his brother was there to watch out for him.

And when he gets back to his apartment in Stanford (and says hello to the few neighbors they pass) that was quiet and dark, he doesn’t pay any attention to it because he knows that Jessica would have probably gone out with a friend or would be in the library studying. He frowns at the dark and oily feel permeating around the apartment but shrugs it off because Brady had likely come here at some point, high or drunk… possibly even both and had been seen out by Jessica. He drops his bag beside the door of their bedroom, too tired to unpack and throws himself on his bed. The drops of liquid on his face wake him up a few moments later and he isn’t too bothered by it, it’s an old building and the pipes are probably breaking down, a quick talk to management should fix that. He opens his eyes and immediately sees Jess on the ceiling and it’s his nightmare come to life as the fires spread from her back and he just can’t wake up.

Dean’s there suddenly pushing him away and Sam feels Dean’s grace slipping and revealing itself as he used it to pull Jessica down from the ceiling. Her eyes and mouth opened wide and her face pale, her stomach cut open and Sam can see Dean’s grace pouring in to her, healing some of it but he knows in his heart it’s too late as his brother carries Jessica in his arms and nudges him quickly to the door and a last flare of grace from Dean and he hears the alarms begin to ring. Jessica is alive but barely and Dean had exposed himself. An ambulance arrives and Dean who has laid Jessica on top of the blanket on the ground that he had ordered Sam to bring out from the back of the Impala, begins talking to the Paramedics and Sam is just thankful that Dean is there because if he wasn’t then Jess would probably be dead by now. And he listens to Dean repeat a variation of the story that Dad had told to the police about what had happened to their mother before his brother pushes him in to the ambulance with a promise that he’d be along soon.

He doesn’t know how long it takes (all he remembers is holding on to Jessica’s too cold hands) but they arrive at the hospital and he takes one look at it and he knows that Dean has given them specific instructions to take them there. The Angels Memorial Hospital was one of the Campbell owned establishments that they had created to fund their hunts or to ensure that it would be no questions asked when Campbells came in after a hunt gone wrong. It wasn’t until he glanced at the calendar and the clock read 11:58 that he realized that it was still November 2nd.

Dean came in not too long after they wheeled Jessica away and Dean sat beside him, quietly and Sam was just grateful because he wasn’t in any mood to talk. Dean’s phone rings about an hour later and he takes one look at it and steps away but Sam has already seen the caller’s name flashing on the phone. He knew that Uncle Nate had already been told and was probably already on his way from Chicago. Sam wondered for a moment how Dean knew that he had been in danger but shook it off, Dean’s instincts when it came to protecting him, had nearly always been spot on.

Finally… _finally_ , after what seemed like an eternity of waiting the Doctor comes out and he’s grim. Dean is beside him and Uncle Nate shows up suddenly, haggard and worried and Sam knows that he’s relieving the night that Dad had called him to tell him that mom was dead. Dean and Uncle Nate talk to the Doctor but most of it flies over Sam’s head, the only words he processes are _stable_ , _coma,_ _brain damage_ , _slim chance of waking up_ , _and pregnant_. The last one gets his attention and it feels like his entire world is shattered once more.

“Pregnant?” He asks the Doctor. Had she been pregnant and lost the baby? Or was she still miraculously pregnant? Surely it had to be the former, the gash to her stomach had been too deep.

The Doctor looks at him with sympathy and a bit of pity. “Yes, it’s a miracle she hasn’t had a miscarriage yet. We’ll follow your lead, Mr. Winchester but please keep in mind that the possibilities that either of them would pull through would be remarkably slim. She had been deprived of oxygen too long and the only thing really keeping her alive are those machines.”  The Doctor told him and Sam couldn’t breathe.

A baby, he and Jess would have had a family. Should he take the chance with that thing still out there? And then he thought of Jessica and how much she would have wanted for her baby to live. He paused at that, he knew what his answer was. “Keep her on. I… if there’s any way our baby can survive, then do it.” He said. The Doctor just nodded at him and she was soon placed inside one of the private suites reserved for Campbell family members. It looked normal but beneath the floor boards and between the walls, different protective sigils warded against everything that the Campbells knew  of. This would be the safest place for her. When Dean and Uncle Nate had left, Sam sat beside Jessica and held her hands as he began to cry. He prayed to God then for some miracle, that she be healed but there was no answer. Later on, he climbed on to her bed and held her and told her about the baby and asked her if she’d known and he fell asleep beside her.

Five days later, he kissed Jessica on the lips and whispered promises of visits as he walked away. Entrusting her to his Uncle and the staff, no supernatural creature (save angels) could enter that hospital. He got into the Impala with his brother with nothing more than a desire for revenge fueling him as he left behind his life of normalcy and everything he had worked for, finally understanding his father’s blind need for revenge. Sam Winchester walked away from the unresponsive form of Jessica Moore and the life they’d built in Stanford and followed his father down the path he had sworn he would never return to because if he didn’t he would go mad and as long as that _creature_ was still out there, his unborn child would be in danger.

* * *

 

Up in Heaven, Mik’hil paused from the reports he’d been reading as he felt a tug on his grace, something familiar and yet wholly new. He’d felt it from time to time but they were too infrequent to understand. This time there were two different tugs and he felt the fear emanating from one and the other (the more frequent and persistent one) emanated determination. He frowned but shook it off, perhaps another persistent prayer from some incessant human.

Raf’il flew into his office then and frowned at him. “You’re here.” He said.

Mik’hil or Michael as he was known by the newer generation, raised a brow. “Where else would I be?” And he was thoroughly confused.

“I felt your grace flare a few times on Earth. I had thought you’d gone down to observe the little mud monkeys or perhaps to smite them.” Raf’il… _Raphael_ … said.

“No, I’ve been here the whole time.” Michael said.

Raphael studied him for a moment. “Strange.” And nodded a farewell to his brother.

“Yes, quite strange.” Michael whispered as he ignored the feel of loss and despair that had struck him deeply as he returned to his reading.

* * *

On Earth, a man was digging through a tin of cookies when he paused and frowned as he felt a familiar grace touch him. _‘Michael?’_ He whispered in confusion and awe before shrugging it off as his imagination. After all, Michael wouldn’t go to Earth until Lucifer was free and the vessels were ready for the final battle.

In a bar in Kansas a man sat drinking as a beautiful blonde woman approached him. “I’d ask you how you found me again but then I would already know. You really are persistent, Sir’ila.” The man said as she took a seat beside him.

“Hello, Father.” The woman said serenely.

“You’re here to ask about your son and I’ll tell you this now. The taint within him can be erased only by Avist’il. He must do it willingly because the child was made in part by his grace. He must do it out of love and kindness as well.” The man had paused. “And for the other matter, I think it’s time you have a child born from you and whoever it is you love.” The man finished as the woman recoiled back in surprise.

“Father.” She began but he shook his head.

“Let this matter be settled by your siblings. I have held their hands for far too long. And before you ask… yes, those boys are _his_.” The man reached for his drink and gulped it down before he stood up. “Until you find me once more, daughter dear.” He said as he vanished and the blonde woman was left to ponder the situation before she disappeared in a flap of wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, Jesse Turner was adopted by an Arch Angel. Michael is clueless about his children. Not really much to say here. Tell me what you think.


	3. Getting back into the swing of things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean get used to working together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. I've actually had this on my laptop for a while, it's just... well... life and a huge mental block prevented me from finishing it.

Sam and Dean drove through America with Dean coordinating between the various members of his ‘family’ (blood or not) and the rest of the hunters in general, he was also constantly checking up with Lisa and Ben. It seemed that what happened to Jessica was enough to unsettle Dean and he’d been using his grace more and more, and Sam saw that after each time he’d used his grace, he would grip the medallion that he’d been given on the day he was born by dad’s mentor for the Men of Letters. A protection medallion was what she’d apparently said and presented Sam one as well. When their mom ¿had died and Mrs. Filia had shown up one last time, she gave dad a few more of those medallions and explained that she’d known about their grace. It turned out the medallions hid their graces and so long as they didn’t try to overpower the medallions or remove them then they’d be hidden.

Unfortunately not overpowering the medallion meant that they had to keep their graces bound tightly. Sam knew for a fact that Ben had been given one of those medallions, had even studied some of the Enochian sigils himself, and knew that Ben (and his unborn child) would be safe while wearing it. Dean though, Dean was the eldest among them and his grace had always been larger than his and whether it was due to the fact that his grace had grown once more (he could literally feel the sheer power humming from Dean at times) or the weight of the situation they now found themselves in as they scoured the country for their father, Sam knew that his brother was having a hard time controlling his grace.

When they were hunting the Wendigo, Dean’s grace had flared up and he felt the death of the wendigo as Dean’s grace literally smote it. He remembered the feeling of dread as he ran with the civilians out of the cave while waiting for his brother’s grace to fade and for the grace of an angel to appear and smite them both, but surprisingly, it never came. As his brother exited the cave with a cocky smile that had been flashed to the siblings that they’d saved before it quickly became somber as he stared at Sam.

Sam knew what it meant, they had to get out of there immediately or they risked running into an angel. So Dean led them down the mountain with his barely restrained grace and drove away before they could be questioned. The same thing had happened while on their other cases as well. When Dean had met Andrea and Lucas he was instantly drawn to them, Sam knew it was originally because Dean was reminded of Lisa and Ben but he knew that he would never get Dean to leave once he heard of Lucas’ trauma. He remembered Dean’s grace taking hold as he fought against the spirit for Lucas before the Sheriff had given himself over. He knew that Dean had been hit by this case particularly hard so he kept his mouth shut as Dean drove them to Indiana so that he could see Lisa and Ben.

So Sam stood back and watched the reunion between the three of them, longing to be a part of that, to have Jess with him, but not quite fitting in. It’d been four years and Dean has changed, he’s a father now who stays away because something is hunting his blood and because his grace has become as unpredictable as his emotions. So they stay for dinner and return to the Campbell home the next town over and this continues on for a few days as Sam searches for their father while watching Dean interact with them and Sam wonders at his unborn child whose grace has been flickering and growing within Jess’s unresponsive form, at the moments that he’ll have with his child.

They head back on to the road when Dean receives a call from a man named Jerry who had apparently been saved by Dean and their Father a few years ago. Ironically, despite their Angelic heritage, Sam discovers Dean’s fear of flying. It would have been laughable had it not been for the demon and the fact that they came close to being some of the casualties of that flight. While Sam had been exorcizing the demon, it had taunted him about Jessica and Sam could remember the feeling of his blood running cold as he remembered its words. When the demon escaped and started plunging the plane, Sam felt Dean’s grace flare in fear as it plummeted and even before he read the exorcism he knew that it wouldn’t be necessary. Not when Dean’s grace had seeped through every portion of the plane, steadying it and taking control slowly. He saw the mass of black smoke try to return to the co-pilot to no avail as Dean’s terror took hold and destroyed the demonic soul while Amanda stood to the side terrified and in awe.

Dean’s corpsman training kicked in as Sam immediately hid the book partially relieved that the demon was dead and not just in hell where it could tell others about their family secret. Sam watched as his brother began to give orders to Amanda who had informed the Captain that the co-pilot had been knocked out by what had happened and was being seen too.

“Sam, take over for Amanda. She’s got to see to her passengers.” Dean orders him and it snaps him out of his daze.

Sam rushes to the Co-pilot, treating him for the few burns that the holy water has induced, a bit of spilled coffee ensures that the paramedics will believe it to be nothing more than too hot coffee that had been spilled during the little ‘mechanical’ failure.

“Hold him steady. I’m going to pop his shoulder back in.” Dean says.

“Ok.” Sam just agrees and watches as Dean finishes up with the co-pilot.

Amanda comes back in then. “I have a few people that need some assistance if it’s alright with you.” She tells him.

“Sure, as long as their fine with Sammy and I just had our first aid license. Not really certified to practice medicine out of the Navy.” Dean said steadily though he was shaky getting to his feet. Sam held his brother up feeling his agitation.

“There’s a doctor working there but there’ve been quite a few accidents and some of them need to be treated soon. Just introduce yourself to the doctor; he’s working on someone who had a heart attack because of this. The Captain is already with ATC and we should be landing soon.” Amanda told them.

“Great, just lead us to this doctor.” Sam said as he walked beside his brother, watching him for any signs of sickness or tiredness. He’d used a large amount of grace and Sam couldn’t help but wonder why none of the angels have come down to smite them yet (though he was also thankful, still, Winchester luck meant that it wasn’t going to last).

He watched Dean introduce himself to the doctor (who as it turned out, worked for one of the Campbell Hospitals) with all the ease of a soldier reporting to his commanding officer. He was sharp and fluid as he spoke to the doctor, listening to the directions (commands really) on which of the passengers he and Dean were to take care of. The doctor seemed to be willing to overlook Dean’s lack of REMT in this circumstance as he allowed Dean take over some of the less critical patients while Sam (who had a modified hunter’s field medical training) was only recognized and certified as only having advanced first aid training. Nothing to Dean’s Corpsman training either way.

When the plane landed and the passengers who weren’t critically injured were evacuated, Dean sat down and gave his report. A quick debrief into his naval medical training and an explanation from the doctor ensured that Dean wouldn’t be given any trouble for practicing without a license. The moment his statement was taken and Amanda had acknowledged them with a simple thanks, Jerry whisked them away and saw them off after a brief discussion about Dean’s new number.

Sam could practically see the relief in Dean’s body as he slid into the Impala his shoulders sagging. Sam said nothing as Dean drove as far away from the airport as he could, knowing that he needed the comfort of familiarity and home that _Baby_ brought. It wasn’t until they were halfway through the drive that Sam realized where they’re going and he smiled in anticipation. As old as she is, she’s the only one who can get Dean calm enough right now.

When Dean finally turns into the picturesque bed and breakfast in Maine eight hours after leaving the airport, Sam scrambles out and practically runs to the door. He hasn’t seen her in ages and given her age, every day with her would be a blessing. Sam enters the door and she’s there, silver-haired and wrinkles and smile lines all over her face but her brown eyes are as warm as ever as she smiles and opens her arms for a hug. Dean follows sedately and Sam watches as his brother practically sinks into her embrace.

She laughs as she pats Dean’s back. “This is a surprise! And to see the two of you together! Oh, it’s been years. You boys don’t visit this little old lady enough.” She tells them.

“Little old lady? Nana, you make it sound like you’re some frail octogenarian!” Dean says as Millie Winchester laughs again and ushers them inside with a strength and spryness that belies her age.

Sam sees a notice letter on her desk and frowns as he realizes where it most likely came from. “Nana! Please tell me you’ve paid that jaywalking ticket you got back in ’89 already.” Sam says.

“Oh! So I’m forgetful! It’s not like they can actually do anything to me! I’ve watched over half the boys in City Hall! Besides! That was just stubborn old Nick Parsons’ way of getting back at me for turning down his ‘propositions’. As if I ever would. Your grandfather was a real gentleman and Nick Parsons was nothing more than a ruffian boy compared to him.” She retorts and Sam just catches Dean’s eye as he pockets the letter behind her back. He was going to pay this bill for her whether she wanted to or not.

He follows her deeper into the B&B as she directs her staff with the precision of a general and orders the best room for them. _‘Her boys’_ as she fondly introduces them to the new members of her staff. Some (like Mrs. Marks and Mrs. Sturidge) have been there for years, practically since his grandmother opened the B &B in the wake of the Men of Letter’s destruction. The fifties were very hard for any widow who wanted to make a living so she took the money Mrs. Filia had given her and bought this place and hired anyone who needed an honest job (mostly women). Their dad had grown up here with occasional visits from Mrs. Filia, and whoever else had remained of the Men of Letters at the time, to be instructed as a Legacy but he’d primarily spent his time with the children of the widowed women. Many of those had lost their husbands during the Second War (or after due to health reasons).

When Vietnam happened, Dad and the boys at _Sophia’s Inn_ had gone to war, of the six boys that left, two never returned home. The other three married their sweethearts while John Winchester went for a drive around the States, he made it as far as Lawrence Kansas when his car broke down. He got his car to a garage and paid for the parts (with a promise that he’d work on it by himself) and checked in to a small motel. It was on his way there that he met an irritating blonde girl named Mary Campbell and stayed for the next decade or so. At least, that was how Millie Winchester had often told it.

He eventually sold the car and bought the Impala just before proposing to a newly orphaned Mary Campbell six months after they’d met and had informed Millie that he was getting married in a month’s time in Lawrence (supposedly to Nana Winchester’s ire). But she’d accepted in the end being that she was such a ‘gracious and loving’ mother who wanted nothing but her son’s happiness. Her acceptance became even more sincere when she learned that the woman who was stealing her baby boy away was a hunter who wanted to leave the life that had claimed her parents. It was good because it meant that she would understand John’s paranoia about certain things, it also meant that she knew how to defend herself against the things that go bump in the night while not seeking the dangers that had led to Henry Winchester’s death and those of his comrades.

So here they were… all these decades later, sitting down with Nana Winchester in her private room and drinking hot chocolate as they tell her about the fact that their father, her _son_ , has gone missing. The silence that goes from that is agonizing and Sam knows, just knows, that his grandmother was relieving the visit that had changed her life all those years ago. He watches as she nods and drinks her tea before she changes the subject to Adam, Ben, and Sam’s unborn child who she was already sure was going to be a boy.

She doesn’t ask about what’s wrong but Dean cracks anyway. With Dad gone, the responsibility of protecting everyone falls to him. And eventually, Nana leads Dean away and Sam watches from the doorway as she coddles his older brother and tucks him in with whispered words of _‘There, there, Nana’s going to be here. Just rest.’_ And it reminds Sam of just how much Dean has lost. Sam had a brief childhood but it was longer than Dean’s. His brother stopped being a normal child when he was four, he became caretaker and soldier after that.

So they stay there for a while and let themselves be taken care of and spoiled by their grandmother. They take off and head to Toledo, Ohio to solve the case of Bloody Mary (something that Sam is secretly in awe off, considering it was a literal urban legend) and as they dig deeper into the lives of the victims and of Mary herself, it wasn’t until he and Dean find the pattern that he begins to feel the dread settle deep into his gut. Mary chose those responsible for a death or deaths and the fact that Sam had been having visions of Jessica’s attack before it had actually happened meant that he was responsible for it, but she wasn’t dead yet. Dean was calm though and Sam was surprised when Mary turned her attention to his brother rather than to him. The moments blur together as Dean uses his grace to pull a mirror in front of Mary and watch as her own reflection kills her. Later, much later, as they sit inside the Impala and drive away from the town leaving behind a grateful girl, Sam stares at his brother and wonders which death he felt guilty about.

Dean puts as much distance between them and the town and finally turns into a motel closer to Illinois’ border around mid-day. Dean finally turns to him once the door to their room is shut and he stares at Sam with a raised brow. “Alright, talk.” His brother says.

“What are you talking about Dean?” And Sam is thoroughly confused.

Dean in turn shakes his head. “Why were you so sure Mary was coming after you? Does it have something to do with your nightmares?”

“Dean, it’s nothing. Besides, she came after you. That must mean you feel guilty about someone’s death.” Sam tells his brother incredulous and defensive.

“Sammy, I was a soldier and a medic. Of course, I feel guilty about losing my men.” Dean reminds him and while Sam knows that his brother is right, he still feels as though he’s holding something back. It’s there in the haunted look that his brother sometimes gets during a case or in the random moments when he looks at certain people.

So Sam shakes his head at his brother. “There’s something you’re not telling me.” He says and Dean sighs and sits on one of the beds.

“Fine, I’ll tell you but you’ll have to tell me about whatever it is that’s been bothering you. Deal?” His brother asked.

“Deal.” Sam concedes, reluctantly.

“Alright, on my last trip to Afghanistan, my men and I were tracking this group of radicals that’s been going around slaughtering villages. There was a man that I treated from one of the earlier villages, I saved his life, Sammy…” Dean’s pause is sharp and Sam can see how tight his brother's hands are clenched and he releases his own grace, allows it to reach comfortingly to his brother, to soothe the anguish and the guilt that was rolling off of him.

“There was a school for girls there, we got there in time and I figured that I might as well give them checkups. The men were bonding with the villagers and patrolling, it was still class time for the girls when _they_ arrived. They threw a bomb at the school, all those girls… there was so much blood and I lost so many of my men. That was when I saw _him_. He was leading them. I was just so angry that I grabbed my gun and I started shooting. I killed him and a few others before my team was able to finish them off. I saw to as many as I could but I lost a lot of people… That’s why I’m guilty, Sammy. I’m guilty because I saved a man who ended up being a monster.” Dean finished and Sam felt like he was drowning under the waves of his brother’s torment.

“That wasn’t your fault Dean. You couldn’t have known what he was.” Sam argues, has to make his brother see that the blood wasn’t on his hands, that he was blameless for that man’s actions.

“Oh, Sammy. It always is.” There’s too much self-recrimination inside Dean and he knows that there would be no more arguing with his big brother for the moment so he quietens down. In the morning they say their goodbyes to the girl that they’ve saved. One life saved, something done right. At least, Sam hoped so. He didn’t know if his brother could take the knowledge that he’d saved another mass murderer.

Sam is relieved when Dean makes the decision to see Lisa and Ben. His brother’s family was, perhaps, the one thing that has kept his brother sane throughout the long years of their strained bonds and tightly bound graces. He worries about what would happen once his own grace and those of the next generation begins to flare, a beacon to the host that someone had sired nephil, but those days are hopefully long enough away that they’re able to find Dad and stop this demon.

* * *

Neither Michael nor Raphael can understand the flares of grace coming from Earth and whenever they look, they do not see any being capable of producing such flares, that alone has them on edge but they’re too well trained that they merely continue with their duties stoically. Michael pursues the report that Sammandriel has given on his true vessel, he doesn’t even bother to investigate anymore. He trusts that this is all a sign from their father that they were doing the right thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? Love it, Hate it?

**Author's Note:**

> I figured the Campbell Clan should still be large enough and with the right pull, easy enough to coordinate to form a para-military group of their own. John knowing about his heritage has a different set of rules and with that comes the slight changes in the boys upbringing. For one, there's no credit card fraud because the Men of Letters have enough money through investments and between Mary Winchester's life insurance policy, Samuel and Deanna Campbell's life insurance, the money from selling their home in Kansas and the shares in the garage, as well as the Campbell's individual and amassed fortunes to which Mary had been the heiress too... well... they just payed in cash. John's also super careful in case CPS catches wind of the situation.
> 
> I'm disregarding the whole Nephilim thing in the show cause I'm not really too crazy about the story line. Also, I'm one of those who truly believe that Ben was Dean's son. The absence of Sir'ila and the angels will be explained at a later date. Oh well... let's see where it goes.


End file.
